


Unprofessional Conduct

by DiseasedBreeze



Series: Slade/Jason Week 2019 [1]
Category: DCU (Comics), Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Begging, Boss/Employee Relationship, Confession, Crushes, Divorced Slade, Fantasizing, M/M, Suppressed Feelings, Unhealthy Relationships, bisexual jason, capeless au, handjob, mentioned Slade/Dick, mentioned bruce/selina, pat-down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 01:09:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18325637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiseasedBreeze/pseuds/DiseasedBreeze
Summary: Jason Todd has a crush.Unfortunately it's on an employee. Even more unfortunately it's on an employee that his father hates but is too good to fire, who is an older guy who is definitely married and only probably divorced. Now if only his dick would get that message he wouldn't have a problem. As it is however there's only so much fantasizing he can do about the Wayne Tech head of security before he does something...stupid.





	Unprofessional Conduct

Jason Todd-Wayne had a crush.

Normally this wouldn’t be a problem. Being the adopted son of a billionaire opened many doors, even if sometimes he later wished they remained closed. If the money alone didn’t swing it Bruce’s reputation as a playboy normally did.

Jason didn’t mind (much) that Bruce tried to fill the hole in his life with adopting kids and copious amounts of sex with beautiful women. Bruce did right by the kids and was good to the women he dated. He’d even committed to a semi-regular thing with Selina, who may have been in it for the money to start with but did seem to genuinely like him. Jason _did_ resent that people thought that made him easy by association. He’d once gotten drunk enough to try and argue that being adopted by Bruce didn’t mean he’d inherit anything but part of the company, but it was pointless. Bruce’s reputation ended up attaching itself to his kids by tabloid osmosis. Some people he really liked had turned him down because they thought it would just be a fling for him.

Being bisexual was less of a problem, it was the twenty-first century after all. It didn’t stop the trashy tabloids calling him gay every time he was seen with a boy (which made for some very awkward conversations) or calling him a cheating liar when he was seen with a girl (which made for more laughs than anything). Fuck those tabloids, but even if it wasn’t for creeps hiding in the bathroom trying to take photos of him peeing he was still screwed.

Bruce wouldn’t mind him dating a guy, even an older guy wouldn’t get more than a disapproving eyebrow raised, but there was no way he’d let Jason as much as flirt with the Wayne Tech Head of Security. Dating employees was a tabloid field-day and besides, Bruce hated the ex-military contractor. If he wasn’t the best money could buy Bruce would have never hired him.

On top of that Jason is pretty sure Slade’s straight. At least, he has a wife and kids, which is a whole new can of worms. Jason isn’t 100% sure they’re actually separated and screwing around with a married man would be so far from acceptable it could see the curvature of the world.

Now if only his dick would get the message then everything would be fine and dandy.

Jason’s type was people who recognized he existed. It _should_ be a broad category, but it was depressing how few of them there were. He’s always ‘Bruce’s son’ or ‘the kid’ or ‘the charity case’. Sometimes they called him worse things.

Slade had never called him any of those things.

When they’d first met Slade had called him by his name and Jason had fallen _hard._ That it had been Slade threatening him not to interfere with his business had just made things worse. It made him think how Slade could probably lift him and pin him against a wall. Jason knew he was a big boy and Bruce made sure he was trained in self-defence but there was something about a guy that could take him (in either sense) with one hand behind his back that was _extremely_ attractive. He’d had enough dirty thoughts about his martial arts instructors to _not_ appreciate to appreciate someone who could get him on his back on a mat…

Even listing the reasons why he shouldn’t be attracted to Slade didn’t stop his skin from prickling when the Head of Security met his eyes during meetings. What Jason knew about running a business could be written on a post-it note but Bruce had put him in the will. That meant he had an obligation to attend meetings and look official.

It also meant he was sitting opposite Slade while the Head of Security gave his report in that smooth, commanding voice that was like having his ear licked. He had to keep a hand in his pocket digging his nails into his thigh to stop himself from blushing when Slade found a problem and that voice dropped into a commanding growl.

That happened a _lot_ recently; Slade wanted to push for more security and Bruce was arguing you had to trust people _sometimes_. While Bruce signed Slade’s paycheque and Slade remained the best in the business it remained a constant point of contention.

Today’s argument was undoubtedly going to lead to Jason furiously masturbating tonight while picturing Slade growling at _him_ while pinning him to a wall and fucking him raw. Great, all this money and he couldn’t buy a brain that wasn’t _garbage._ If there was a research fundraiser on how to surgically remove someone’s libido he’d forge Bruce’s signature on whatever paperwork he needed to be a test subject.

At least he’s managed to get through today without an inconvenient boner. Again.

Jason is idly contemplating the possibility of hiring a prostitute fitting some _very_ exact qualifications when an alarm goes off. Reality returns with an unpleasant sharp jolt.

He looks at the concealed metal detector hidden in the decorative archway and tries to think what could have possibly set it off. His fingers hadn’t gone walking since he was very young, but a sudden burst of irrational fear hits that he’s somehow stolen something and not remembered. He’d spent too long on the street not to know it wasn’t what you’d done but what they could pin on you.

Bruce turns to look at him with his eyes hard and disapproving and Jason flinches when he finds he can’t deny he did anything because what if he did? Then Bruce’s eyes go to Slade and disapproval becomes an outright, virulent hatred.

“Random searches are standard procedure.” The Head of Security says gruffly, daring Bruce to even _imply_ he shouldn’t be subject to the same rules as the rest of the company.

The hate in Bruce’s eyes somehow grows, then his eyes return to Jason and just the tail end of the hatred still makes his blood freeze. The wordless order is something as powerful as a shout and what it says is: **Don’t give him an excuse.**

Jason nearly jumps out of his skin when Slade puts a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll have him back to you soon.” Slade growls and yup, this was going to be a big problem, especially when Slade’s icy blue eye falls on him and he feels his heart leap into his throat.  “Unless you give me a reason not to.”

Jason swallows and feels a lump in his throat. He can’t even make a smartass remark to reassure Bruce he’s focusing so hard on not saying or doing anything incriminating. Bruce gives Slade one last long look that threatens to personally flay the Head of Security if he in any way harms his son, then Slade’s leading him into a small room and shutting the door behind them.

“Daddy looks just about ready to breathe fire, doesn’t he?” The Head of Security says with a small chuckle as he locks the door. The small ‘click’ makes the hairs on the back of Jason’s neck stand up. “Stay in the yellow area and put your hands on the wall.”

Jason looks at the floor, a small rectangle of it has been painted yellow. He puts his hands on the wall.

“Any particular reason why you’ve called me aside Slade?” Jason asks, trying to sound casual but coming off grimmer than he likes. He’s already mentally going over his clothing wondering if a belt buckle or zip has triggered the metal detector.

“’Figured it was time you and I had a little talk.” Slade says, leaning back against the door in an unprofessional manner.

“That it?” Jason frowns and takes his hands off the wall.

Slade clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“I didn’t say you could move your hands.” He says and Jason puts his hands back before it registers.

He rolls his eyes to try and cover his embarrassment. Jason hears Slade step closer to him, his boots on the ground and the faint rustle of his clothes, as Slade looms over him.

“If you just want to talk do you think giving me a pat-down is appropriate?” He asks and tries not to blush as Slade’s hands touch his shoulders.

“Random searches are random for a reason.” Jason can hear Slade’s smirk. “If anyone was going to be smuggling something illegal the boss’s kids make a good mule.” Slade leans in closer. “And if Bruce asks that’s all we discussed.”

Jason fights not to blush or groan or get hard because he can feel Slade’s _breath_ against his ear.

He’s a good boy, his father’s dutiful son, he tries so _hard_ in public to keep up appearance of respectability even if his guardian doesn’t. Everyone still looks at him as the gutter-rat, the street urchin, the violent delinquent that must have cheated his way to the top, a criminal briefly denying his base instincts because he must have done something to be born poor. A bad boy at best, a beast at the worst.

He’s sick of doing what’s best for Bruce, or the company, or the _family._ If Dick had gotten pinged by a security gate Bruce would reassure him things were going to be okay, he saves that cold _accusation_ for his street son, like Jason would _ever_ steal from the company. Like he’d be so offended at getting searched he’d try and fight a US Army Major.

He wants to do something _bad_ and he wants to do it without caring about the effect it would have on Bruce, or his brothers or the damn stock prices. He wanted it for _him._ For once he wants to be completely and utterly _selfish_ and fuck the consequences _._

He doesn’t move his hands though he does turn to look Slade in the eye. There’s a look of faint amusement on the Head of Security’s face and _damn_ it is hard not to blush.

“So what did you want to talk about?” He asks and manages a normal speaking voice.

Slade chuckles.

“I just got tired of waiting for you to work up the guts to talk to me.” He says. “Not that the desperate puppy look isn’t adorable, but I can’t pussyfoot around it forever.” He grins. “I reckon if I worked on you any longer you’d have vaulted the table and begged me to fuck you in front of everyone there.” There’s amusement in Slade’s tone and Jason groans.

“That obvious huh?” Jason groans, a flush of embarrassment rising to his cheeks “Do you think anyone noticed?” He asks in a tone that means he’s really asking, “has Bruce noticed?”

“Those stuffed shirts wouldn’t notice a naked woman dancing on the table unless she had hundred-dollar bills stuffed in her cleavage.” Slade replies bluntly. His hands stroke down Jason’s shoulders, Jason’s aware that he should be doing something, but his hands seem stuck to the wall as if magnetized. “And Daddy dearest has enough reasons to dislike me adding another on the pile doesn’t change much.”

“You absolute _bastard._ ” Jason says with feeling.

“So they tell me.” Slade’s hands move down to his sides.

Jason’s _sure_ he’s blushing now.

“I know a pat-down is _definitely_ not appropriate in these circumstances.” He jokes.

“Undoubtedly.” Slade agrees but doesn’t stop.

Instead his hands glide up Jason’s thighs and Jason’s breath catches in his throat. He hadn’t noticed it but there was definitely a _reaction_ in that area, the treacherous bastard. As soon as he stopped telling it off up it popped.

“What do you want?” Slade asks him softly.

Jason can’t meet his eye; he’s scared of what he might see there. Even without looking he can _feel_ how strong and big and warm Slade’s body is at his back.

He can still say no, be the bigger man like Bruce would want him to and suppress his desires until they resurface in some unhealthy way like _screwing underwear models young enough to be your daughter, Bruce_. He could say no and he knows Slade will back down and _he’ll never get another chance._ That’s the deal Slade is offering; all or nothing. Either he’s committing to this bad decision or he’s accepting the closest he’s going to get to Slade Wilson is going to be a wank fantasy.

“I want to not be wearing pants right now.” Jason confesses as Slade’s hand rests on the bulge between his legs.

A soft chuckle sounds by his ear and Jason swears Slade is close enough he can feel him breathe. The fingers rise a little to unclip his belt buckle and he flinches at the sound. He is _definitely_ bright red, his hands still firmly braced against the wall but the rest of his body taut as a bowstring with anticipation. Slade loosening his belt feels agonizingly slow as the Head of Security hooks his fingers into the waistband of his pants. He slowly drags them down enough for his hand to press in the same spot on the front of Jason’s underwear. Jason bites his lip. Jason was well aware he liked a firm hand on the metaphorical rudder but this was a bit much.

“Christ, you’re really going to make me do this?” He says.

“Why don’t you try being a bit more specific if you want me to do anything else?” Slade suggests sweet as poisoned sugar. Give and take, all or nothing. Jason’s going to get exactly what he asks for and nothing more.

“Please touch me Slade.” Jason says quietly, knowing that nothing’s going to happen until he begs. “I want to feel your bare hand wrapped around my cock.”

“There you go.” Slade practically purrs in his ear and Jason has to bite back a moan as the calloused fingers slip under his underwear and wrap around him. Slade’s hand feels a lot larger and warmer than he pictured it, or maybe that’s just how hard he’s getting. His breath catches again and one hand slips from the wall.

“Hands.” Slade growls and Jason’s hand flies back to the wall in instinctual obedience.

“You bastard.” Jason half-moans. “You twisted, sadistic sick _bastard._ ”

“Well, if we’re done here…” Slade says and starts to move away.

“Wait, don’t…” Jason whimpers, his hands trembling as he nearly removes them from the wall on instinct.

“You are giving me lots of mixed messages right now Jason.” Slade says, sounding mildly annoyed, and licks along the shell of Jason’s ear.

Fuck whatever was left of his dignity, that breaks him. Goddamn it Slade. He actually moans and bucks his hips forwards a bit, frustratingly Slade’s hand moves with the motion without any delicious friction.

“I…want you.” He manages to croak, closing his eyes to block out the smug smirk he _knows_ Slade is wearing. “To touch me…more.”

“It’s like pulling teeth with you…” Slade mutters under his breath, still enough for Jason to hear him, but his hand moves enough to make Jason bite his lip and no further.

“ _Fuck,_ Slade.” He hisses. “More, god, more please. Stroke my cock, I want to cum in your hand.”

“That’s more like it.” Slade growls and discards the pretense.

Jason’s glad for the wall as Slade makes him moan. It’s a good thing they were literally in the most private area of the building or he’d worry about being overheard.

Twice he lets his hands slip from the wall and both times Slade stops so sharply it makes him yelp, only starting again when Jason gets his hands back on the wall. He whimpers, he moans, he begs and his body shudders with the pressure of holding himself at such an awkward angle. Slade doesn’t let him fuck against his hand, he always keeps complete control  and doesn’t do a thing Jason hasn’t explicitly begged him to. It feels like an hour but it can’t be longer than five minutes before Jason is begging to cum and spilling over Slade’s fist. Sheer relief nearly makes his knees crumple and he catches his breath while Slade cleans up.

“So…” He says when he can form words again. “That happened.”

He pulls up his underwear and rebuckles his belt, smoothing down his clothes out of some primal fear Bruce will be able to tell what he was doing. Slade rests his hand in Jason’s hair and his heart sinks. Here it comes, the moment when he says this was all to get back at Bruce, or because he looked so sexy in the magazines he was begging for it.

“Next time, you just got to ask and we can have a little talk about reciprocity.” The Head of Security tells him.

Jason blushes again.

“I thought you were straight.” Jason mutters.

Slade snorts.

"Why don't you ask Dick about that sometime." He suggests with a grin and wink before unlocking the door. "Now run along, Daddy'll be wondering what kept you."

Jason yelps and smooths down his clothes, already preparing his excuses as he makes it out the door and back to the world of Bruce's disapproving gaze.


End file.
